


Circles

by chains_archivist



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Boys in Chains, Dark, Drama, M/M, Non-Q/O
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Keelywolfe</p><p> Obi-Wan seeks out something that Qui-Gon can not give him from another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circles

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).  
> \--  
> Warnings: Just in case you missed it in the categories, this story is DARK and ANGSTY and contains BDSM. And while it does have very strong O/Q overtones, it is actually a Non-Qui/Obi story. Beware, here there be draigons. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters within do not belong to me, no matter how much I wish that they did. They are the property of the Mighty GL and I am only borrowing them.

He walked silently down the darkened hallway, eyes forward, not bothering to look around. His hood was drawn forward and he could just see around the edges, walking past each door that lined the hall. He could hear nothing, the patrons paid well for their privacy in this place but he knew what was happening behind the thick panels of durasteel regardless, the thick heaviness of lust moving through the air like smoke. He inhaled deeply as if he could breath it into his lungs even as he wrinkled his nose at the stale reek of sweat and the stink of unwashed bodies.   
  
And then he was there. He stopped in front of one of the doors, unremarkable and identical to its neighbors but for the numbers emblazoned on it. Unremarkable except that it was the door he had been searching for and Obi-Wan took a deep breath, struggling to calm his suddenly leaping emotions, a nearly painful jumble of lust, guilt and frustrated anger.   
  
 _I can still leave,_ he thought suddenly. It wasn't too late. He could turn and walk away, go back to the Temple and pretend that he had never been here, that he had never even heard of this place, never mind walked through the halls with their stained carpet and silent doors. No one held him here. He could just...leave.   
  
He closed his eyes, lowering his head until he could no longer see the door with its numbers. No, he couldn't, not anymore than he could have left the other times. He couldn't.   
  
The door swung open and Obi-Wan looked up, unsurprised.   
  
"Were you planning on waiting in the hallway all night? Perhaps if you're there long enough someone will recognize you and won't that look good on your records?"   
  
He didn't even wince at the mocking words, simply looked at the other man silently. The man gestured curtly and Obi-Wan obeyed, walking into the room far enough that the man could shut the door.   
  
Strong hands caught him, jerking Obi-Wan backwards and slamming him into that hard metal of the door. His breath was knocked from him and a hard mouth coming down on his own stole away any chance for him to regain it.   
  
A tongue plunged rudely into Obi-Wan's mouth and he allowed it for only a moment before he responded desperately, his own hands biting into the other man's arms as Obi-Wan tried to pull him closer, teeth clashing as they tried to devour each other. Obi-Wan tasted blood and dimly realized that the force of this kiss had split his lip. He moaned helplessly, grinding his mouth against the other man's, frantic for more.   
  
Finally, when Obi-Wan's vision had dimmed threateningly from lack of oxygen, the other man pulled back, still holding Obi-Wan tightly against the door but allowing him panting gasps of air.   
  
When Obi-Wan finally managed to open his eyes again he found the other man's pale blue eyes studying his mouth. Obi-Wan licked his lips and tasted salt, slowly realizing that blood from his split lip was trickling down his chin.   
  
One hand released its bruising grip on Obi-Wan's arm and he winced faintly as sensation started to tingle its way back through the offended limb. The other man's hand drifted lazily to Obi-Wan's face, slim fingers wiping away the blood.   
  
"You came."   
  
The faint bitter metallic of blood wafted to his nostrils as those fingers traced their way down his cheek. They were still wet with blood, smearing tacky streaks of it down Obi-Wan's cheek and he shuddered faintly in revulsion.   
  
"I told you I would," he managed, breath quickening even as the other man smiled at the bitterness in Obi-Wan's voice. Yes, he had come but neither one of them pretended that Obi-Wan wanted to be here.   
  
"Tell me, does he know that you came to me tonight?" The man leaned forward to murmur against his ear, moist breath caressing sensitive skin and Obi-Wan shivered again for an entirely different reason.   
  
"Of course he doesn't." The words were harsh, only a faint tremor betraying him. The fingers slid back to his mouth, dipping again in the tiny ribbon of blood that was running down Obi-Wan's chin from his lip.   
  
"Of course." Irony laced the older man's voice as his hand again fluttered over Obi-Wan's face, smearing crimson streaks on the smooth skin.   
  
A tiny whimper escaped Obi-Wan before he could catch it and he was shaking now, from the scent of blood, from the touch of those fingers. "Xanatos," he whispered, pleadingly, turning his head ever so slightly away although he couldn't bear to actually step back and break contact.   
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
"Shh, hush now, my pet." The hand on his face returned to Obi-Wan's lips and a single finger was laid across them, silencing him. Xanatos smiled at Obi-Wan, pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. "The time for talking is over," he crooned against Obi-Wan's hair and a barely suppressed moan caught in the younger man's throat. "You came to me," Xanatos continued, rubbing his cheek briefly against Obi-Wan's before stepping away and looking down the other man's body appraisingly, "Take off your clothes."   
  
He did so quickly, letting his clothes drop to the floor around him. Naked, he stood up straight, his arms falling to his sides even as he blushed faintly at his obvious erection. Xanatos' eyes took it all in, drifting over the younger man's body and Obi-Wan straightened defiantly, refusing to cover himself.   
  
Xanatos walked around him and Obi-Wan held perfectly still, even when a hand curved over his buttocks, squeezing one round globe gently before retreating.   
  
"Beautiful..." breathed softly behind him and Obi-Wan shivered at the gust of warm breath against his bare skin. "But then, you always are." Xanatos continued, walking around to face Obi-Wan again. Blue eyes met gray, both challenging the other.   
  
"Lie down on the bed," Xanatos ordered softly, arms crossed casually over his chest. One minute passed, two, and then Obi-Wan slowly turned and walked to the bed.   
  
It was the same kind of bed that had been in a dozen different rooms across the galaxy. At least it looked cleaner than some he had been on. He put a knee up on the edge, testing it, and glanced up. His lips curved faintly upward at the sight of the mirror above the bed but the smile vanished when Xanatos made an impatient sound behind him. Obi-Wan shifted slowly, stretching out across the mattress to lie on his stomach.   
  
He pressed his face into the blankets when he heard Xanatos walk towards him and forced himself not to pull away at the first touch on his wrist. Cold metal replaced Xanatos' hands and Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the feel of it, remembering the first time. It was vivid painting in his mind, swirling with dark colors and darker emotions. A chance meeting, Xanatos' mocking invitation, their combined shock when Obi-Wan had accepted...it had brought them to this.   
  
The feel of the metal circling his ankles as well yanked Obi-Wan back to the present and he couldn't control a flinch as a warm hand trailed up his bare flank, his skin pricking as it skimmed over his back before resting on the back of his neck.   
  
"Beautiful." Whispered so close that Obi-Wan could feel Xanatos breath against his cheek. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look like this, spread out for me?" Xanatos' hand drifted up to Obi-Wan's head, combing through the short hair with his fingers.   
  
"He won't see you like this, you know that, my pet," Xanatos murmured, leaning closer, his own darker hair falling forward to tickle Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan tensed at Xanatos' words but the older man continued as if oblivious.   
  
"He won't see the beauty in it because he  _can't_  see it," Xanatos said, still gently stroking Obi-Wan's hair. "He would never be able to see how exquisite you are, how beautiful you are like this. He simply can't, my pet." The hand tangled into Obi-Wan's hair, massaging his scalp soothingly.   
  
"I still love him." Obi-Wan hadn't meant to say it aloud, the words escaped from him without thought or shame. It was the truth, no more and he could have sooner taken his own life than to deny those words. The hand stilled and then tightened briefly, painfully gripping Obi- Wan's hair before releasing him and vanishing completely. The bed creaked slightly as Xanatos stood and moved away.   
  
"I know."   
  
He heard it only an instant before it struck, the sharp hiss of leather cutting through the air and then a line of fire arced up his spine, ripping a startled shriek from Obi-Wan before he caught himself. Obi- Wan cringed forward, straining against his bonds as he braced himself against the next blow.   
  
Instead, a warm hand caressed the small of his back and Obi-Wan relaxed a fraction, reluctantly.  
  
"There." Faint amusement in Xanatos' smoky voice and Obi-Wan realized his mistake as the whip came down again, painting a streak of raw pain across his shoulder.   
  
"You always feel it so much better when you relax, pet," Xanatos said, walking to the head of the bed, his palm sliding up to the mark on Obi- Wan's shoulder. The younger man shivered as Xanatos fingered the rising welt, watching Xanatos through half-closed eyes as he waited for the next blow.   
  
Standing just behind and a little to the left, Obi-Wan could just see Xanatos out of the corner of his eye. Still fully dressed, a marked contrast that made Obi-Wan more conscious of his own nudity, and his vulnerability. A deception, Obi-Wan knew, he was no more vulnerable now than he ever was with Xanatos. The shackles were useless, one flick of the Force and they would be gone. They were merely a symbol, an illusion of helplessness.   
  
He reveled in it.   
  
He pulled the chains taut as another blow fell, across his back, bisecting the wound that was already there and he fought to suppress a whimper.   
  
Xanatos came close again, lightly touching the flesh around the welts, as if testing Obi-Wan's sensitivity. "Do you know what it would do to him if he discovered that you came to me for this?" he asked conversationally, idly running the length of the whip down the back of Obi-Wan's thigh and dragging yet another near cry from the younger man.   
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan ground out, burying his face into the sheets. He could smell his own sweat, the clean scent of freshly laundered bed linens and he was already hard, struggling not to grind his cock against the coarse fabric sheets. He'd gotten an erection at the first blow, instantly, and he had to fight the urge to simply scream. To scream would be to end this and that he couldn't bear, not yet. Not yet.   
  
"Then tell me, are you here to punish him or yourself?" Teasingly, the whip tickling over his skin, itching maddeningly until it was all Obi- Wan could do again to not shriek, this time in frustration.   
  
Obi-Wan turned his head, just enough to see Xanatos. Pale blue eyes met Obi-Wan's and the younger man couldn't help but compare and to see that Xanatos' eyes were paler, less expressive. Wrong. Obi-Wan smiled then, very faintly, before saying, lightly, "Maybe I'm here to punish you?"   
  
The surge of anger that flowed into the Force struck him nearly as hard as the whip and now the blows were raining down, finesse lost in the blaze of rage and Obi-Wan clutched at the chains attached to his wrists, muffling his cries against the blankets and screaming only in his own mind.   
  
Yes, he wanted to scream. Yes, do this to me, do this for me. He was not good enough, not good, not good enough for  _him_. But this was his, was Obi-Wan's. This was his due. It was during these moments, caught in the embrace of the most exquisite pain, the most horrific pleasure, that he was real, not merely a silent shadow to someone who had never wanted him.   
  
He was on fire, burning with sweet pain as the lash struck him. Each blow like the sting of a thousand insects and a heavy web of dark emotion began to form around him, spinning forth a cloud of anger, lust, need. His own or Xanatos' he didn't know but it was suffocating him and this was too much, too much, he couldn't...   
  
It stopped abruptly.   
  
It was only when he felt the wetness on his cheeks that Obi-Wan realized he was crying. Hitched, sobbing breathes, all the lust he'd felt moments ago had been leached out of him and he couldn't get enough air, still felt that suffocating fog of darkness around him. Too close, too, too close that time.   
  
The darkness seemed to loom closer every time. Every time he swore would be the last and every time he managed to resist, for a while. But he always found himself back here, in a room like all the others on a dozen different worlds. Xanatos had been following him from the beginning; on every world that he and Qui-Gon went to Xanatos had been there, distant but there, and waiting. And sometimes Obi-Wan went to him, sullenly taking what he offered and sometimes he resisted. But Xanatos was always there, like a shadow. It was a miracle that Qui-Gon hadn't noticed yet. It was like walking the fine edge of a blade, just waiting for the moment that he would finally lose his balance and to see how deeply he was cut.   
  
He barely registered that Xanatos was touching him, gentle hands sliding over his flesh that wasn't marked with reddened lines. Soothing him, murmuring soft words to him and Obi-Wan allowed himself to be gentled, comforted.   
  
"It's all right, pet, it's all right. It's over now," Xanatos crooned softly. Obi-Wan flinched when a finger brushed his cheek, testing the wetness there and then he watched in kind of dazed fascination as Xanatos lifted the damp finger to his lips, tasting Obi-Wan's tears.   
  
"Beautiful," Xanatos sighed. He stroked Obi-Wan's sweat-soaked hair gently, and Obi-Wan sighed softly, relaxing. He could relax now that it was over. For it to begin again after Xanatos had ended it would be against the rules, the worst kind of betrayal and then it truly would be over, they both knew it.   
  
"You are so beautiful like this, my pet." Xanatos ran a finger over Obi-Wan's back, fondling the welts and Obi-Wan whimpered faintly. "All of this is mine," he whispered, leaning closer until his lips brushed Obi-Wan's ears. The younger man closed his eyes and turned his face away but he heard what Xanatos said next regardless.   
  
" _He_  may own you, as unworthy as he is of you," Xanatos hissed, his touch rougher as he pinched Obi-Wan's abused flesh between his fingers. "But I am the one who marked you. If nothing else, this is mine."   
  
Obi-Wan was crying out steadily now, straining away from Xanatos. It hurt, Force it hurt, something deep inside him was screaming, wailing in terrified agony, and oh, this was  _killing_ him and he wasn't sure whether it was the older man's touch or the truth in his words that he was fighting against.   
  
Instantly, Xanatos stopped, his hands sliding down instead to the unmarred skin of Obi-Wan's hips, stroking the soft skin of the younger man's flanks with practiced ease.   
  
And Obi-Wan stopped fighting, allowed the sweetness of pleasure to wash through him. Yes, this was what he needed. The flesh between his legs swelled again, firming as Xanatos caressed him. A warm hand insinuated itself between Obi-Wan's thighs, cupping his balls and Obi-Wan gave a choked cry, arching into the all too brief touch as Xanatos pulled away again.   
  
And returned, stroking, teasing and Obi-Wan found himself thinking of those hands, hands that he was allowing to touch him. A murderer's hands, hands stained with the blood of innocents. Stained with Obi- Wan's blood although he was no longer as innocent as he had once been and knew he never would be again. Some things, once lost, could never be regained.   
  
And then he was thinking nothing at all as Xanatos gently stroked the cleft of his buttocks and pressed a slick finger inside. A soft, choked off moan and Obi-Wan lifted his hips towards that warm pressure only to have Xanatos back off again. He rubbed tiny circles with a single finger against the entrance to Obi-Wan's body but did not press inside, until Obi-Wan relaxed back down to the mattress.   
  
And then slid his finger inside again, gently stroking the narrow passage as he watched Obi-Wan fight the urge to arch up again, knowing what would happen if he did. Xanatos could play this game for hours, his patience mocking Obi-Wan's eagerness.   
  
So Obi-Wan lay perfectly still, even when one finger became two as he was opened and readied for an invasion that was not coming quickly enough.   
  
"Do it now," Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely and was rewarded with a harsh slap against his backside.   
  
"I will do what I want, when I want," Xanatos said sharply. "You are not the one in charge here, pet." He had to say it, what little pride he had left from these encounters demanded that he say it and at times he almost believed it. Almost.   
  
Obi-Wan nearly laughed aloud at that but he choked it back, struggling to relax, to not move even when all his nerves were screaming that he must. Control, it was all about control and he breathed deeply as Xanatos touched him.   
  
"Do you want this, pet?" Xanatos asked softly and it was all Obi-Wan could do to control his groan. Games, always these games. Obi-Wan held still, not answering.   
  
"Do you want this?" And Xanatos thrust hard with his fingers, forcing a cry from the younger man. An unpleasant smile twisted his face as he whispered, "Say it, I want to hear you say it this time."   
  
"I hate you," Obi-Wan whispered, barely audible but powerful nonetheless.   
  
Xanatos closed his eyes against the words, gritting his teeth as he pulled his fingers almost completely out. He paused there, ignoring Obi-Wan's protesting cries. "Say it."   
  
"I hate you!" Obi-Wan spat, shouting it this time as he struggling to impale himself further and he nearly shrieked when Xanatos refused to allow it. "I hate you," he chanted, gasping raggedly, "I hate that I want this, I hate that I let you do this and..."   
  
"My, my, such words, pet," Xanatos chided, laughing softly, mockingly, "What would your master think?" Xanatos leaned closer, pitching his voice to a high, singsong tone, "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to..."   
  
"I don't care!" Obi-Wan screamed then, hoarse gasps escaping him as he struggled against his bonds, his wrists raw and bleeding. He hardly noticed; the tiny pain was swallowed up in the twisting agony of need. "I  _hate_  you! I hate that you want me, I hate that I need this and...oh..." Another scream was wrenched from Obi-Wan as Xanatos thrust his fingers brutally hard inside him.   
  
"Say it!"   
  
"And I hate, oh force, I hate that you aren't  _him_  and oh, gods will you just fuck me!"   
  
There was no stopping the scream when Xanatos roughly pulled his fingers out, leaving Obi-Wan sore and empty. Xanatos moved away and he could hear the other man pulling off his clothes. Obi-Wan was nearly weeping with need when he finally felt warm, bare skin settle against his own, arching up helplessly to meet it.   
  
"Easy, pet, easy," Xanatos crooned, running his hand over Obi-Wan's sweat-slicked back, fondling the rising welts and relishing Obi-Wan's whimpers. He settled over Obi-Wan's writhing form, positioning himself and then pressing inside very slowly, groaning as tight heat surrounded him. He ignored Obi-Wan's barely intelligible pleas, strangled whispers for faster, for more. This time, this one time, Xanatos would have it his own way.   
  
It burned, his flesh stretching to admit the length of Xanatos' cock and Obi-Wan took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax. Yes, yes, he mouthed, silently as Xanatos pushed in as deeply as he could, blanketing Obi-Wan's body with his own as they both lay still, savoring the sweetness of contact.   
  
Sweat dripped down his back, his own perspiration mingling with Xanatos', stinging painfully in the welts there. Even as Obi-Wan was concentrating on that tiny pain, a hot tongue rasped along the mark on his shoulder, dragging a startled hiss from him, before soft lips found Obi-Wan's ear.   
  
"Obi-Wan..." Xanatos breathed, gently, hips moving in a slow circle and a sob caught in the younger man's throat. Not enough, it wasn't enough...   
  
"Please!" Obi-Wan sobbed out, finally, pride and stubbornness vanishing as he strained against his bonds and towards the man who held him in willful captivity.   
  
Xanatos responded immediately, thrusting deep and Obi-Wan threw back his head in a silent scream. This, this was what he needed, the deep pulse of lust that hung thickly in the air, the feel of Xanatos inside him. And yes, it hurt, the sweetness of pain mingling with the agony of pleasure and Xanatos was moving quickly now, thrusting hard and moaning ever louder because Xanatos needed him.   
  
A flood of desire swept through Obi-Wan and he arched backwards, raising his hips to meet those thrusts the best that he could. Xanatos needed him, someone needed him and if it was the wrong person, then so be it. Word were tumbling from Xanatos' lips, a helpless outpouring of passion as he whispered how much he needed this, about how tight, how hot Obi-Wan was, dark words that crept into Obi-Wan's ears. They were both slick with sweat, sliding against each other as they fought to get closer still.   
  
A hand fumbled around Obi-Wan's hip to clasp his erection, stroking in time to Xanatos' deep lunges and a broken scream tore free from Obi- Wan's lips as Xanatos thrust hard, as deeply as he could, straining to get deeper still and Obi-Wan felt warm pulses of liquid fire deep inside even as his own orgasm rushed over him. Swamped with pure sensation for a brief moment he could feel everything, the roughness of the sheets against his skin, Xanatos' fingers digging bruise-deep into his hips, a bead of sweat sliding down his shoulder to be absorbed into the blankets, Xanatos' cock still straining inside him as the other man was swept into his own pleasure.   
  
And then all that was lost and Obi-Wan fell into a shock of ecstasy, a kaleidoscope of colors flickering behind his eyes as he came, desperately burying his face into the bed linens to muffle the name that he cried out. The wrong name, and he could have wept for the agony of that simple truth.   
  
And then it was over. Xanatos slumped down against him, making Obi-Wan strain for breath but he didn't protest. Xanatos' long, tangled mass of hair spilled down over Obi-Wan's shoulder and it was soft and cool against his overheated skin. He shifted a bit and buried his face into the silken filaments, breathing in deeply the scent of whatever soap it was that Xanatos used and if he closed his eyes for just a moment he could pretend...   
  
He didn't. Instead, he waited, silently, for what he knew would come.   
  
"Stay."   
  
A single word, whispered against Obi-Wan shoulder. A statement and a question, the same question every time and Obi-Wan answered it as he always did, and as gently as he always did.   
  
"I can't."   
  
He closed his eyes as Xanatos stiffened against him and then pulled out roughly enough to make him gasp in pain. But still he didn't protest, said nothing at all as he listened to Xanatos dress. A ripple of energy through the force and the manacles opened and fell to the bed, freeing Obi-Wan.   
  
Tiny needles of pain prickled their way through his arms and legs after being restrained for so long and Obi-Wan breathed through them, until they eased enough for him to stretch and roll onto his back.   
  
Xanatos was standing at the foot of the bed, faintly tousled but fully dressed; his face was starkly visible against the sea of darkness that was his hair and clothes. And so were his eyes, cold, pale eyes regarding Obi-Wan dispassionately. Hating him.   
  
And then without a sound he turned away, going to the single window in the small room and looking out.   
  
Rolling to his feet, Obi-Wan padded nude to the small bathroom. He splashed cool water on his face, washing away the streaks of blood that Xanatos had painted on it earlier and it felt wonderful against his hot cheeks. He glanced up and looked at himself in the mirror studying his reflection. His lip was a bit puffy but nothing incriminating showed.   
  
A faint sense of relief at that and he turned to leave but then his eyes flicked upward and caught on his reflection's eyes, shadowed, haunted eyes and suddenly it was all too much and his trembling legs betrayed him. He sank to the floor, nearly hyperventilating as he drew up his knees and pressing his forehead against them.   
  
Calm, he needed to be calm. He took a deep breath, another, struggling to center himself. Now was not the time for this, now it was time to settle accounts and to go. Another breath, slowing his heartbeat, pulling his mental walls up around him and then he forced himself to his feet and walked calmly out into the main room.   
  
Xanatos hadn't moved and Obi-Wan ignored him as he pulled on his clothing, wincing as the rough cloth of his tunic dragged across his sore back. He was absently grateful that he had brought his cloak; it felt as if the lash had broken the skin in a few places and no doubt blood was already seeping into the thin fabric of his shirt. He was already going to be pushing the line by being out so late. Trying to think of an excuse for coming home bloodstained was not something he wanted to do any time soon.   
  
His wrists were bruised, the skin raw and chafed and he tugged his sleeves up to cover them, making a mental note to tuck his hands in his robe when he went home or else there would be awkward questions to answer.   
  
A last glance at Xanatos as he fastened his boots and then he turned away silently, walking to the door.   
  
"He'll never love you, not the way I do."   
  
The words jerked him to a stop and Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, fighting to keep his calm, before turning back. Xanatos was still standing in front of the window, staring sightless out at dim night- lights of Coruscant. Arms wrapped around himself, his hair falling around his face like a shield he looked far younger than he was and almost painfully vulnerable.   
  
A brief hesitation and then Obi-Wan walked over to stand next to him. Xanatos stood statue still, stiffening as Obi-Wan silently raised his hand, tucking long strands of hair behind the other man's ear before lightly touched Xanatos' cheek, tracing the white ridges of the scar that was there. A small broken circle that shone starkly against the smooth skin, a mark that Xanatos had given himself after his battle with Qui-Gon.   
  
"I know," Obi-Wan murmured and then his hand dropped and he turned away.   
  
"Go then," Xanatos said abruptly, turning to face the younger man, his eyes blazing. "Go back to him and your pathetic little fantasies." He laughed then, bitterly, the heat in his eyes slowly turning to ice as he smiled coldly. "You know where to find me, if you need me."   
  
Obi-Wan nodded once and then turned away, leaving the room without saying another word.   
  
The door clicked shut and Xanatos sighed, sagging forward enough to press his forehead to the cool glass of the window. "Go back to him then, and truly, you are more a fool than I, pet," he whispered, watching the lights of the aircars flickering by. "At least I managed to leave." He snorted then, mocking his own words. "And yet if I am so very intelligent then what am I doing here?"   
  
The empty room offered no answers and finally he simply turned off the lights and crawled into the rumpled bed without bothering to remove his clothes. He drifted off to sleep, each breath drawing in the musky and horribly addictive scent of sex and blood.   
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
Huddled in the back of the aircar, Obi-Wan was trying to focus on setting this aside. It was over and now he had to concentrate on the now, on getting home and getting back into his life. At this moment though, his face buried in his cloth-covered knees, all he could smell was the other man's touch on his skin. He reeked of sex and Obi-Wan felt a brief rush of vicious pleasure that he was returning to his master smelling of Xanatos before he ripped the emotion away and cast it off. He would not allow himself to feel that.   
  
It was time to forget about this, to put it aside until the next time and Obi-Wan didn't even bother to pretend that there would not be a next time. Tomorrow was soon enough to start lying to himself again. He wondered, not for the first time, just how much longer he would be able to do this. He was balanced on the edge of disaster and one day he was going to make a wrong step.   
  
He pushed that aside as well. Perhaps he would and perhaps he wouldn't but if and when it happened it wasn't going to be tonight. Best not to think of it, to just put it aside and worry when the time came.   
  
Yet his mind refused to release it, it taunted him, picking at his memories like they were a fresh scab. Briefly, he had an image of Xanatos, standing behind him, flushed with exertion as he asked,  _Are you here to punish him or yourself?_  
  
He didn't know. Lifting his head, Obi-Wan let it drop back against the small window and he stared bleakly up at the ceiling of the aircar. He didn't know and he was afraid to look too deeply within for the answer. Once, he would have had no compunction about doing so. He would have looked deep within and rooted out the fear that had taken hold of him. And now fear was preventing him, now he was afraid to look too deeply within because he was terrified of who might look back.   
  
 _Who are you punishing, Obi-Wan?_ And this time it was a lover's voice, tender, warm, the way Xanatos sometimes...no. He was not going to think of that, he was letting that go, he was returning home.   
  
 _Are you punishing yourself?_  
  
And that was ridiculous. Of course he wasn't, it wasn't as if it was his fault. How could it be his fault if he had been unwanted? He simply had not been good enough and that was that. No shame it that, no blame, just the truth. He had tried his best and his hardest and it was hardly his fault if it had finally been pity that had made him a padawan. And if he chose now to meet with Xanatos then it was his own affair. He was an adult and it was no one else's business.   
  
 _Are you punishing him?_  
  
If anything that was more ridiculous. None of this was his master's fault, none of it. It wasn't Qui-Gon's fault that Obi-Wan was so unlovable or that he had been trapped with an unworthy apprentice. Qui- Gon did  _everything_  for his padawan, trained Obi-Wan to be the best Jedi he could possibly be, despite his unworthiness and if he didn't offer praise then it was hardly his fault that Obi-Wan did not deserve it.   
  
Obi-Wan huddled tighter into himself, lowering his face again to his knees as he rocked slowly, trying to soothe his restless mind. Of course Qui-Gon didn't love him, why would he? Obi-Wan had a difficult time believing that Xanatos might actually care for him. The idea that someone like Qui-Gon may ever feel more than mild fondness for him was...was a dream hardly worth even considering.   
  
And he did know how upset Qui-Gon would be if he discovered Obi-Wan had been with Xanatos, that was why he kept it secret, wasn't it? It wasn't punishment, it wasn't, it was just...   
  
He blinked, only just noticing that the droid had stopped the aircar and was waiting for him to depart. He staggered out onto the platform, his limbs stiffened from sitting for so long and he struggled to compose himself before going to his rooms. He tucked his thoughts neatly into the back of his head, walking soundlessly to his quarters as he blanked his mind.   
  
He paused in front of the door, the brief memory of another door flashing into his mind and Obi-Wan closed his eyes against it, pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the door. His hands closed into fists so tightly that his nails bit into his palms and he stood there, concentrating only on breathing and knowing what was on the other side of this door as well as he had known what had lay behind the other one. He could see it as clearly as reality.   
  
His master, sitting in his chair or perhaps on the sofa, reading and he would look up at Obi-Wan when he walked in and Qui-Gon would smile. And there would be a knowing look in those eyes, that would never see him as he so desperately wanted to be seen, because Qui-Gon thought he knew what his padawan had been doing. There would be amusement maybe, for Obi-Wan coming in so late, warmth assuredly, affection. But not love.   
  
Obi-Wan blinked, looked again at the closed door before him and without another moment's hesitation he opened it and walked through, closing it silently behind him.   
  
-finis- 


End file.
